


Gift Drabble  3

by enemytosleep



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Creepy, F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-02
Updated: 2011-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemytosleep/pseuds/enemytosleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was silly, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Drabble  3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JordannaMorgan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordannaMorgan/gifts).



> Written for [](http://jordannamorgan.livejournal.com/profile)[**jordannamorgan**](http://jordannamorgan.livejournal.com/) during the 2011 Halloween exchange at [](http://fmagiftexchange.livejournal.com/profile)[**fmagiftexchange**](http://fmagiftexchange.livejournal.com/) , now edited and safer for consumption.

Sciezka jerked awake, her coffee spilling along with her notes. "Hey!" she shouted shrilly, spinning quickly in her seat. Jean was always playing little pranks on her like this when she fell asleep at her desk…

But there was no one behind her. How could that be?

An icy hand had brushed against the back of her neck just then, she was sure of it!

"Jean? Are you there?" She sat up and folded one leg beneath her, craning her neck to get a better view of the apartment. "This isn't funny!" she added, but the knowledge that she was really alone was beginning to sink in now. She clutched her cardigan and wrapped it tighter, nervously chewing her bottom lip.

Then she laughed.

It was silly, really. She had lived alone for several years, what with her mother being so ill in hospital after hospital. There was no reason to freak out right now! She'd probably been woken up by a draft: the building was old and not as well cared for as it could have been. She was also prone to forgetting open windows. _Get a grip, Sciezka! And make sure the window's not open, that would be asking for trouble this hour of night._

Shaking her head, she stood and shuffled from the book-laden table toward the kitchen, which was the most likely source of the draft she'd felt.

When the lights suddenly cut out, the air around her becoming uncomfortably icy, she couldn't help but scream.


End file.
